Candy Taxes & Tithes

When my children were younger and spent Halloween racing from house to house toting a pillow case they would come home with as much as six pounds of candy. It would all be dumped in a pile on the living room floor; one pile for my son and one for my daughter. They would stare at the loot for a moment, taking it all in like Daffy Duck staring at a room full of gold coins. And then they would start sorting through the pile, looking for their favorites and deciding which three or four pieces (their allotted amount for Halloween night) they would devour before cleaning up and heading off to bed with sugar-fueled dreams.

That's when Amy or I would remind them of the Candy Tax, the price that was paid to the heads-of-household in thanksgiving for letting them live under our roof, eat our food and participate in the annual costume-and-candy-grab festival of Halloween. This wasn't mean. This was a life lesson. "Soon you will be paying real taxes to the government," we told them. And the Bible tells us to tithe our earnings and give 10% to God. We didn't want the poor darlings to think that they could keep 100% of what they had received. Someone is always going to lay claim to part of what you think is yours. We simply wanted to be good parents and teach them about life.

(Disclaimer: Honestly this practice had way more to do with the fact that free candy tastes better than purchased candy. And when I started sporting a beard and passed the 200 lbs. mark, dressing up and asking neighbors for candy (even though they were already handing it out for free) seemed a bit creepy. The whole "teach my kids a lesson" gambit didn't fool anyone. They knew what was up.)

My kids learned to keep us away from their piles so we couldn't get a look at what they had acquired. They would come to us with offerings of candy in hopes of appeasing our stringent demands. But a third-grade sized hand carrying two waxy chocolate balls wrapped in foil that looks like an eye ball, a cellophane packet of off-brand Sweet-Tarts with candy coating and three snot-green Jolly Ranchers doesn't cut it. I saw the people down the street drop two Reese's Peanut Butter Cups in your bag! I can see that Heath Bar on top of your pile from here! And no, I don't want a Dum Dum sucker of any flavor. They remind me of getting shots at the doctor's office.

Six weeks later we would find remnants of the Halloween stash buried in their closets. We would ask if they wanted anymore of the candy. They would tell us no. I would take it and hand it out as game prizes in Confirmation Class.

I'm afraid this Halloween ritual of ours reveals an awful lot about human behavior. It shines a light on our greed and our fear of having things taken away from us as well as how fast we become bored by things that once held an immense appeal to us.

I'm also afraid that my behavior reflects the reality of some of the greater institutions in our culture; the government, corporations and the church. Each of these entities feels entitled to a portion of what we have received. Each one justifies its entitlement by providing something in exchange for our taxes, patronage or tithes. If that was the whole truth of the matter I would have no problem with it. But reckless government spending, outrageous corporate profits (if you are making billions in profits, perhaps you could help the world economy by lowering your prices) and church foundations and endowments reveal a greater concern for the institutions than the people they serve.

The government needs taxes to serve the needs of the republic. Corporations need profits to be able to supply people with goods and services. Churches need tithes to do the work of the church. But when these institutions lose sight of who they are serving and the fact that they exist to serve they simply scare away those who can help them the most.

I wish I had been more thankful and encouraged my children's generosity when it arose naturally. Despite my blunders they are pretty generous people. I plan on paying back all those candy taxes and tithes with interest. But, like my parents, I'm not going to give it to my kids. I'm going to give it my grandchildren.

Revoking My Man Card

We bought a new vehicle yesterday. A pick-up. The first brand-new pick-up and only our second brand-new vehicle in 25 years of marriage. It doesn't have all the bells and whistles but it's got a lot of them. And it fits in the garage with two whole inches to spare!

We did some shopping and test driving last week. A young woman who had recently graduated from college and had been hired as a sales consultant answered questions and told us about the features. She did a great job. The bonus was that she hadn't learned any of the high-pressure sales crap and was genuinely embarrassed when her sales manager insisted that she inquire what it would take to sell us one that day.

My family genetics won't allow me to make that kind of purchase decision. I won't even buy underwear without thinking about it for a few days. So we found a price that we were both okay with, asked if they could get it in a different color than the arrest-me red they had in stock and left. After sleeping on it and with a few more conversations we decided to get it. We called, put down a deposit, and were told it would be available on Monday.

Monday evening we arrived at the dealership and another sales consultant who we had worked with in the past joined the sales consultant we had been working with most recently. Before we signed any papers or handed over a check we were given an opportunity to look over the vehicle we were buying. I walked around the truck, looking for dents or scratches. We climbed inside and turned knobs and clicked switches. Then the sales guy asked, Do you want to see under the hood?"

Without hesitation I replied, "Nope."

As the sales guy went on talking about features I had this creepy sensation that some disembodied spirit was reaching into my wallet and revoking my Man Card. Had I really just declined the opportunity to look under the hood? In that refusal to stand and look at an engine where the only things I could identify were the battery and the windshield wiper fluid reservoir, did I really just admit in front of my wife and the sales guy that I have no clue  about the really important part of the vehicle?

I used to be able to do a basic tune-up on a car. I learned on a station wagon in which I could actually sit in the engine compartment while I worked. But the days of looking at an engine, giving a listen and being able to spot problems passed long ago. Nowadays mechanics connect a computer to the engine to see what is wrong. Somewhere deep inside I understood that standing in front of an open hood and staring at a jumble of wires and covered mechanical processes would just be a waste of time.

So take my Man Card if you have to. I'll be too busy streaming wireless music from my phone and talking on the hands-free entertainment system to care.

Social Media Communities

I've been thinking a lot lately about the way we use social media like Facebook, Twitter, Tumblr and others. These sites are evolving into new ways of being in community with other people. And for all of the negative press they get there are a lot of positive aspects beginning to emerge.

The other day a friend told me that he has stopped using Facebook because it is a black hole where time disappears. Many of us have had that experience where we log on and bury our heads in our computer screens only to find that an hour or more has slipped by when it felt like 10 minutes. We look up and see that we are alone in room or office and there is that sense that we have been duped. A lonely feeling overwhelms us when just a moment before we felt so connected.

A new study by the Pew Internet and American Life Project as reported by Mashable indicates that we are using Social Media platforms to strengthen our ties to one another away from our computers and mobile devices. The report claims that "Facebook users tend to get more emotional support, companionship as well as instrumental aid (meaning they’re more likely to get help when sick, etc)."


There is no doubt that online communities can cause problems or be places where people are endangered but we can say that about every community, online or otherwise. These new online communities will be what we make of them and it appears that we would like them to be for good.


What is your experience with social media sites? Do you give and receive instrumental aid? Do you give or receive support from people you know? Have you had a primarily positive or negative experience?

On Freedom

I woke today to the news that Osama Bib Laden was killed in a covert military operation over the weekend in Pakistan. This was the only story on the morning talk shows. My Facebook feed is filled with expressions of relief at his death and pride in the ability of the United States to accomplish the mission and bring him to justice.

It is big news to be sure. The events of September 11, 2001 wounded the heart of my country and, as much as we don't like to admit it, brought fear to the surface of our lives. My heart grieved with those who lost loved ones in the attacks and I led prayers for God to be with them and bring them comfort. I quietly cheered when we, as a nation, struck out to eradicate terrorism and vowed to make the world a safe and free place.

Almost ten years later I do not find myself cheering the news of Bin Laden's death.  As a Christian I try to imagine how Jesus would greet this news. I struggle to think of the man who commands us to forgive our enemies and teaches us to turn the other cheek pumping his fist into the air with a flash mob and chanting, "USA! USA!"

Revenge can feel like justice. I've understood that since I was a small child. But revenge does not equal justice. The Gospels are clear about that point. In fact, that is exactly the point of the Gospels. God's justice is found in forgiveness. That near-incomprehensible concept is lived out in the Easter story. If revenge were the same as justice God would have needed to get even with those who betrayed, denied, abandoned and killed Jesus. Instead, Jesus is raised from the dead and his life and ministry continue.

I understand that there is a cost to be paid for freedom. To the men and women who have worked so hard and have given their lives for my political freedom I say thank you and congratulations.

To those who call themselves Christian, a gentle reminder: It is not Bin Laden's death that sets us free. It is neither revenge nor will it be the eradication of every person who wishes to harm us that finally guarantees our freedom. It is God's love in Christ that sets us free. We find true freedom in forgiveness not revenge.

I want my country to be free.  

Thinking about Thinking About God

In the past few weeks the Evangelical world has been abuzz about Pastor Rob Bell's book LoveWins: A Book about Heaven, Hell and the Fate of Every Person Who Ever Lived. It began when his new publisher posted the most controversial quote from the book that it could find, challenging the "traditional" views of heaven and hell that most Christians teach. 

A firestorm of tweets and blogs hit the internet denouncing Bell as a Universalist (someone who believes that everyone will go to heaven) and a heretic (someone who turns away from the "right" teaching of the church). Last week, as his book was released, Rob made the rounds on the morning news shows to be interviewed and he even did an hour-long streaming internet interview. Each TV interview began with a tease that claimed he was now saying there was no such place as hell. 

Full disclosure: I like Rob Bell. I've been to his church. I attended his preaching conference two years ago. I use some of his Nooma videos in classes that I teach. This week I purchased Love Wins and have read just over half of it so far. I wasn't planning on buying it right away but so many people in my congregation have asked me about it that I thought I had better read it so I could speak from my own perspective.

My comment today isn't about Pastor Bell or his book. It's about the way the larger Christian Church has responded to it; especially the Evangelicals.

It occurred to me this morning that the Evangelical church has caught up with us Lutherans. Correct theology and the tenacious debate around it is becoming the primary concern of church leadership.Theology is the strength of the Lutheran church. It's what we're known for. Here is what I can tell you about theology.

1. Theology is simply thinking about God. So most people are theologians in that sense. But those who have spent years studying theology have built up jargon, catch phrases and other forms of shorthand that separate the academics from those who casually reflect on the nature of the Divine. Two tiers are created. An amateur and a professional rank are created. The professional ranks are populated by clergy, professional academics and some others in church leadership. The amateur ranks are made up of everyone else who thinks about God and God's participation in the world.

In this case what I am observing is an uproar within the professional ranks. It's mostly clergy and professional academics who are upset by the whole thing. What I am seeing among the amateur ranks is an interest in the conversation. Yes it can be upsetting to people to have long-held thoughts and beliefs challenged. But I am also seeing and hearing from people that these are the very kinds of questions that they have. The traditional ways of describing life and faith are no longer connecting with our experience and we need to figure out how to change the way we talk and think about God and Life without compromising the central message of the faith.

2. Within the professional ranks a game appears that I call competitive theology. I was first introduced to it in seminary. It is the subtle and not so subtle oneupmanship between classmates that are vying for attention from professors. What begins, I believe, as a true exchange of ideas becomes a competition whose goal is to win a debate, not to inform or to be informed by the conversation. When winning a debate is the goal, then labeling your opponent becomes the way you paint them into a corner. Defending yourself from accusations of heresy is a very different thing than debating the merits of your thoughts. Labeling and accusing are attempts to shut down the conversation, not move it forward.

Competitive theology is addictive in the same way that winning anything is addictive. It's one of the primary reasons I stopped going to theological conferences put on by my denomination. I too easily get sucked into the drama of the competition and I lose my perspective of love for the other. What begins as a journey together ends as a race, and if the other person (or group of thinkers) doesn't have what it takes to get to the end, well, it's their own fault. That is not the kind of person I want to be. 

3. No one goes to heaven because of good theology. We all say this. We all believe this. We act as if the opposite were true. 

If we really believe that eternal life is a gift of God's grace (wherever and whenever it is found to be) then why do we get so upset about bad theology? If we claim (and we do) that I cannot come to Christ by my own will or understanding, then why is it so important that I get my theology right? Is bad theology an unforgivable sin? My experience is that it is not. Any theology, even bad theology, can be redeemed by God. In fact if it weren't for some of the bad theology in my past I wouldn't be where I am today. God uses all of that to lead me to new life and new understanding.

Theology is a conversation to be joined, not an answer to be found. We need to get back to the conversation.

Paint a Picture of God for Me

Tonight two people painted a picture of God for me. To the casual observer they are the same God. I believe that in the  minds of the people who were speaking, they both referred to the God of Abraham, Joseph, King David and the Father of Jesus (the one from Nazareth). Both of the pictures were painted with words and I saw them, heard them, on the internet. Both were painted with sincerity and passion.

Both images of God were painted with the words like, Love and Goodness. Both described a God with whom we can have a living and loving relationship. Both artists/story tellers believe that such a relationship is a path to a richer, better lived life. 

But this is where the similarities end.

The first picture that was painted for me was done so by Rob Bell in a streaming event sponsored (I assume) by the publisher (Harper Collins) of his new book Love Wins which will be released tomorrow. In the hour long video Rob answers questions from Newsweek reporter Lisa Miller and people in the audience. In his answers he stresses the "here and now" aspect of both heaven and hell and emphasizes the way that Jesus and much of scripture talks about the ways that God comes to earth - not how we escape it to be with God. God is Love, he says, and Love demands freedom, even if it means freedom to stay away from God.

The second picture that was painted for me was done by a young woman on You Tube who posted a video titled, "God is So Good.!!!" In her three minute video she tells how she and some friends have been praying fervently since the beginning of Lent (6 days ago) that God reveal himself to the atheists of the world. She then went on to say that God answered her prayers when he literally shook the country of Japan with the earthquake last Friday. She then breathlessly looked forward to more of God's "goodness" to be poured out on Europe and America before Easter because of all the atheists in residence.

Can these both be pictures of the same God? 

No. No they can't. One paints a picture of a God who is loving and forgiving. The other paints a picture of a God who masquerades as loving and forgiving but has these unpredictable bouts of anger and wrath. One is painted by a person who wants to see the end of suffering and the other is painted by someone who is secretly delighted by someone else's suffering.

Unfortunately, these pictures are often mashed up and co-mingled. They both fly under the banner of Christianity. They both exist within our churches and the minds of the people in the churches. 

Maybe it is time to sort them out.

Observing Lent

How do you observe the season of Lent? There are several traditional ways of observing the 40 day season that leads up to our celebration of Christ’s resurrection.

Sacrifice: Many Christians observe Lent by giving up something that is special to them. Some give up chocolate or desserts. The youth group is encouraging people to give up texting. Others go without soda or restrict their TV viewing. Whatever it is you give up, the idea is to somehow experience sacrifice. And while most of the things we give up don’t cause us to truly suffer, they do offer a reminder of what it meant for Jesus to sacrifice his life for us.

Intensified Spiritual Practice: The season of Lent was originally a time for those who wanted to be baptized to increase their devotion to God. Sacrifice was a part of this practice. People fasted (went without food for a specified time) and they also sacrificed so they could give more to the poor. In addition to sacrifice they also added time for prayer, devotion and serving those in need. The idea with intensified spiritual practice is to become more Christ-like in our everyday lives. It was hoped that at the end of the 40 days of preparation, those spiritual practices would continue. Easter was not a release from these sacrifices and practices. Easter is about the new life that is formed through them.

Led by the Spirit: The 40 days of Lent are based on Jesus’ experience in the wilderness after his baptism. We are told that Jesus was led by the Holy Spirit (actually “expelled” to the wilderness in the Greek). The wilderness is a place of chaos and testing. It is a place where we are not in control.

I think it is interesting that our current Lenten practices encourage us to take more control in our lives when, for Jesus, it was about letting go of control. At the end of the 40 days in the wilderness, Jesus was tempted by Satan to take control of his life and his destiny. Instead, Jesus let God remain in control. He would take no shortcuts. He would not force God’s hand.

What would it look like for us if we were led by the Spirit through the 40 days of Lent? What would it be like if we were not in control?  What would it be like to experience the hunger of a fast and suffer alongside the millions of people who are hungry every day? What would it be like for Christians to stop trying to build the Kingdom of God through a political process and, instead, became servants of the least deserving people? What if we gave up the notion that if we just pray more, give more or worship more then God will have to ease our suffering or bless us in some other way?

Being led by the Spirit means being led into suffering. Not in some sadistic, self-effacing way or in some attempt at delayed glory. The Spirit leads us into suffering for some other reason. 

Perhaps this is what I'm being led to explore during Lent. We'll see.